


Stories of the Second Self: The Cat’s Paw

by John_Steiner



Series: Alter Idem [182]
Category: Urban Fantasy - Fandom, lockdown - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:54:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25649857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: Hersh Morrison accepts a mystery invite to a restaurant to find himself dining alone in the establishment. However, it's no pleasant surprise when he discovers who set up the date.
Series: Alter Idem [182]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618813





	Stories of the Second Self: The Cat’s Paw

"Right this way, Mr. Morrison," the waitstaff said.

Hersh Morrison, still confused by the mystery invite left on his office desk while he was out, followed through the empty restaurant. The whole of Cincinnati was in lock-down, and yet this place was operating. Granted, only one table was set up.

"If you will be seated, she'll be with you shortly," the waitstaff said.

At that, Hersh grinned, figuring that Janet had set this up as a surprise afternoon for him. He'd found her shortly before ending his marriage, and she motivated him to use the angle he and his attorney did in court.

However, then other staff came in and closed up all the curtains. Next, they rolled out dividers to place in front of every window.

"Hey, what's this about?" Hersh asked.

"Special request, sir," one staffer said.

Lights were dimmed also, which made chase think they'd roll out a bed too. Janet was always into doing it in odd places. More staff came out with a tray to lay the appetizer before chase. However, on the other side of the table they placed a single silver goblet with a decidedly medieval look.

"And that?" Hersh pointed.

"She'll be here soon, sir," the waitstaff assured.

Digging in, Hersh relished the shrimp, "Ah, this is living."

"Speak for yourself," came a familiar voice.

Turning around in his chair, Hersh saw a short form in all black clothing, hood, and mask walking briskly to the table. He couldn't see her face, but Hersh recognized the voice and walk from anywhere.

"Jesus, Renee," Hersh gasped, "What're you up to?"

"I just found out that little Janet's in the emergency room," Renee said, tossing her purse onto a nearby table before sitting. "So, I arranged this get together to talk."

The waitstaff came back with a medical bag filled with something dark. Hersh was pretty sure he knew what the liquid was, given that he'd used Renee's peculiar way of dying to declare the marriage over. He poured the viscus liquid into the goblet and departed with unsettled haste.

Renee pulled gloves off her hands with the leisure of a cat having cornered a mouse. Then, pulled back her hood to reveal her deathly skin and solid black eyes. Finally, she slipped down the mask that concealed that mouth of inward curved razors that replaced her teeth. She took a dainty sip from the goblet and set it back on the table. The sound of its weight felt like a gavel to Hersh.

"Okay, you're upset," Hersh surmised, "But it was legal. C'mon."

"You're not even asking about Janet," Renee replied with a smirk, "That's funny. I tell you she's in the ER and you don't even ask what's wrong with her. It's a wonder you didn't turn also."

"You're the real sociopath," Hersh said, and then popped another shrimp, and waved at the dish, "Though, your tastes are as impeccable as ever. So, what did you do to her?"

"Must've been the weight gain that hit first," Renee alluded.

"I can't imagine how you managed that," Hersh remarked, "But yeah, she packed it on rather quickly and in the least appealing proportions. Had to postpone the wedding to see if she could work it off."

"Amended the prenup too, I'll bet," Renee sneered.

"Attorney's working on it," Hersh confessed.

"Tell her she's going to have to account for a smaller net worth," Renee warned, and then waved to the waitstaff.

One of them came over with papers and a pen to be laid at Hersh's right.

"What's this?" Hersh asked as he picked up the forms. "A memorial fund? I don't get it... ah, there it is."

"I was such a lovely caring person in life," Renee chided and took another sip with suggestive eyes toward Hersh.

"You know how to front with the best of them," Hersh shot, and picked up the pick to click it. "Aaand, there we are. Halvesies."

"Didn't even put up a fight," Renee observed.

"You're too ruthless for me to try that," Hersh replied, and added, "For all I know, you actually used witchcraft, which is real now."

There was a wince on her dead features, which Hersh witnessed just long enough to know it wasn't his imagination. He'd been bested, but he kind of admired how she did it, and she only wanted half of his money. Renee couldn't have asked for alimony anyway, but from the documents she was making a clean break between them.

"Don't forget the date." Renee took particular interest in his signing.

"This is about her, isn't it?" Hersh ventured his guess.

"I know you were seeing her before this happened," Renee answered waving at herself. "Now she'll learn she's just as replaceable."

"Did you blow the entire half million setting this up?" Hersh wondered.

"Close," Renee admitted, "Call it a gamble. You're used to that."

"And there you go," Hersh said and passed the documents over.

"Now," Renee's tone lightened after another sip from the gothic receptacle someone likely died to fill, "Shall we reminisce on the good times we had?"

Hersh finished up the shrimp and noticed the main course rolling out.


End file.
